


Second Skin

by unicornsandbutane



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Boot Worship, Finger Sucking, Glove Kink, Leather Kink, Light BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 17:55:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8677258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unicornsandbutane/pseuds/unicornsandbutane
Summary: There was something about the way Hux carried himself, that drew Kylo’s interest. The General was so different from him; in fact, probably the only thing they had in common was leather boots and gloves.Requested by glass-oceans on tumblr!





	

In general, Kylo wasn’t the biggest fan of these assemblies. He disliked standing before the amassed ‘troopers in silence, though he knew his presence was symbolic. He would never speak at the edge of the platform, would never do anything but stand there, menacingly, Captain Phasma a short distance away, the two of them serving to strike fear where it was someone else’s job to provide impetus, a direction to put that fear behind. That someone, of course, would be General Hux. 

Who else was up to the task? The man was every bit as cold and as fierce as the planet on which Starkiller was being born. Kylo often contrived to be elsewhere when these gatherings were held, either aboard the Finalizer or off in the depths of space. But, he could see the benefits of attending. While he wished he could pace (he felt he looked even more terrifying with the swirl of his clothing billowing around him) he didn’t want to miss this moment. 

There had been a short introduction from a commissioned officer Kylo recognised by face but not by name, and then a sharp salute from the troops, and that was the cue. In the frigid air, everything fell silent, and the echo of Hux’s steps rang out across the crowd like the fall of the gavel. Even Kylo held his breath as Hux took his place. 

Everything about him was complete military precision, and while Kylo wasn’t interested in that, not for himself, not for his Knights, he could at least appreciate the stark differences between himself and the General. They were many. In fact, for nearly every aspect of Kylo’s person, he could find it reflected antithetically in Hux. The only things they had in common, really, were their boots, and their gloves. Kylo’s were perhaps thicker than Hux’s, by nature of his job, but the basic concept was there. 

Even still, as Kylo observed Hux’s tight stance, feet spread shoulder-width apart, hands clasped behind his back, he could see exactly how /clean/ Hux’s boots were, shined to parade perfection. He could see how soft and buttery the man’s gloves were, no doubt maintained with great care so they wouldn’t impede his dexterity. Was Hux a particularly dextrous man? Kylo had barely had the chance to notice, but perhaps he ought to try.

When the clack of Hux’s boots against the durasteel fell silent, the man surveyed the crowd for a moment, and Kylo noticed the slightest tightening of the clutch of his fingers behind his back, before his speech began. He wasn’t sure what it meant, or even if it meant anything, but in the thin light from their distant star, the one for which Hux had such grand and terrible plans, the smooth, well-dressed leather shone, and drew Kylo’s eye. 

Kylo had never seen Hux without his gloves. He wondered in that moment if he should like to, or if the man would seem less himself without them. He thought about stripping off his own gloves, the leather hewn thick to catch sputtering sparks off of his saber blades, to touch the stitches and seams that traced Hux’s fingers. He supposed the leather would be thin enough he could feel the heat of Hux’s hand through it. He could wonder, were Hux’s hands soft beneath, his fingers protected from toil and abrasion? Or, were they callused with his years of work? Kylo knew Hux to be a man who worked himself to the bone, full of tense and all-consuming determination. He had great focus. It was probably one of his most redeeming qualities. 

Of course, he had never seen Hux without his boots, either, and why would he? Hux did not waver as he spoke, not in the biting cold, not in the piercing wind. Kylo barely heard the words themselves, but let the texture of them lap against him, Hux’s voice rising in a crescendo like the wave about to break. Kylo swallowed, his heart suddenly constricted with anticipation. 

There was that squeeze again, Hux’s hands tensing almost imperceptibly behind him as he reached the climax of his speech. Kylo bit his lip behind the mask, watched the leather flex in the crevices between Hux’s fingers. Then, suddenly, Hux dropped his voice, and Kylo almost leaned in to catch the words, caught himself at the last moment.

“Together we will build this machine,” Hux said to the crowd, almost conversationally. “We will show the galaxy that they needn’t struggle under the yoke of the New Republic, fighting for scraps, hungry. We can and will welcome them all, as you have been welcomed, and we will give to them the peace they so deserve. We will do it together!” 

All at once, the ‘troopers rapped their knuckles against their breastplates, and in the cacophony, Hux nodded once, and there was that squeeze, once more. Kylo wondered why, and as he wondered, he watched. Hux began to stride off the platform, his shoulders squared, and Kylo found himself missing the precise clip of Hux’s gait, drowned out by the crowd. To Kylo’s left, Phasma turned, and Kylo curled his fingers into fists, imagining the creak of the leather. He turned as well, followed Phasma off the platform. 

When the doors closed behind him, shutting him into the base, he felt the sudden change in temperature, felt the cold prickling off of him under his many layers. He wondered what Hux felt under his hat and greatcoat, his tunic and undershirt, his trousers and socks, his boots and gloves. He wondered if the man was sweating in the relative heat, if he’d retired to his quarters, stripped off, lay panting and flushed in his cool sheets.

Kylo found he’d walked there without really thinking about it. 

And, what was worse, Hux opened the door, and was standing just there, datapad in hand, looking shocked and perturbed that Kylo stood in his way. 

He hadn’t stripped, except for his greatcoat and hat, stood dressed exactly as impeccably as he always was on the bridge. He raised one fine eyebrow at Kylo, and Kylo’s hands formed into fists again. In the silence of the hallway, he could hear the grind of the leather against itself.

“Lord Ren,” Hux greeted, “Something you wanted?”

Kylo glanced past him into the room, saw Hux’s coat hanging on a hook, his hat balanced on the corner of a chair. It was so awfully domestic, and Kylo leaned into the doorframe to see more. Hux stepped back, confusion writ on his brow, and Kylo took advantage of the surrendered ground, making his way into the room. The door slid shut behind him as Hux’s face curled further with puzzlement.

“Lord /Ren/,” Hux repeated, this time with more force, “What is this about?” 

Without a word, Kylo pulled off one of his own gloves, tucked it into his belt. He reached out, and Hux offered his datapad, slowly. That wasn’t Kylo’s intention, but he took it, placed it down on a sideboard. 

“Ren, /what/—”

Kylo reached out again, and Hux eyed his bare hand. 

“What are you asking me for?” 

Kylo’s fingers twitched, and Hux raised his hand hesitantly. Kylo nodded, and Hux extended his hand. It was easy enough to grasp Hux’s gloved hand in his bare one, feel the leather for himself. It truly was very smooth, and so thin, almost like surgical gloves. These were not standard issue, they fit too well, cleaving to Hux’s hands as though painted on. He could feel every knuckle, the shifting bones in the back of Hux’s hand. He imagined that if the gloves were any thinner, he’d be able to see Hux’s veins. 

The stitches, too, were fine and even, so close as to be nearly invisible. He traced the seam, in the valley between the fore and middle finger, and Hux finally found his voice.

“Why are you so interested in my gloves?”

“These aren’t First Order gloves, General.” 

Hux’s wrist flexed slightly, like he’d considered snatching his hand back, but didn’t. 

“They are not. Well-spotted. I found I needed a thinner leather to get through the hundreds of sheets of flimsifilm I review in a day. I still have my uniform gloves, though I can’t see why it should matter to /you/.”

Kylo shook his head, released Hux’s hand. Rather than depart, he lifted his mask, shook out his hair. 

“If you’re thinking of going to the Supreme Leader over my breach of official dress I assure you he has much more important concerns.” Hux was rubbing his hands together, as if trying to get the feeling back into them. 

“No,” Kylo replied. “That isn’t my plan.” 

He dropped to one knee as if waiting to be knighted, and ignored Hux’s yelp of shock. Hux’s boots appeared to be military issue. They’d been polished to a mirror shine and Kylo wondered if Hux had tasked a droid with that, or if he’d done it himself, bent over each boot with the black and the rag, working the leather until it was smooth as glass. He set his helmet on the ground, and Hux seemed unsure as to whether he should step away or stand firm. 

“Do you polish these yourself?” Kylo asked and Hux didn’t answer for a moment.

“Yes, I… find that droids are too rough with the leather. Look, what is this, Ren? I shan't ask you again.”

Kylo looked up at him, met the General’s eyes from under his heavy brows. 

“Oh,” Hux said. “I see.” His tongue flickered across his lips, and Hux squeezed his hands together again. Kylo swallowed dry, watched one of Hux’s hands reach for him. He leaned into the warm leather when it touched his face. “Should I even ask why, all of a sudden?” Kylo shook his head. “Very well, then. How far do you want to take this?”

Kylo turned his face, nosed Hux’s palm, inhaled the scent of the leather and whatever oil Hux used to keep it so supple, so sinfully soft. He opened his mouth, kissed messily at Hux’s fingertips. With a twitch of his brow, Hux pushed two fingers into Kylo’s mouth.

Kylo moaned before he could stop himself, ran his tongue over those fine seams he’d felt before, sucked Hux’s fingers as well as he could. With the taste of leather on his tongue, Hux’s warm fingers pressing down, he thought he might submit to anything, might bend down and kiss Hux’s expertly shined boots if he was asked. Hux rubbed his tongue, and that rich, warm scent, the raw flavour, filled Kylo’s senses. He shuddered, and Hux gave him a thin smile, before pulling his fingers free of Kylo’s mouth, wiping the saliva down Kylo’s jaw. 

“Take off that high-collared thing,” Hux instructed. “In fact, you should take it all off, if I guess your intentions correctly.” 

Kylo nodded, letting Hux stand by and watch him strip out of his layers. When he got his boots off, and rolled onto his back to shuffle out of his trousers, Hux unclipped his own belt, and folded the leather over his hand. Kylo didn’t know what Hux planned for that, but he wanted it, whatever it was. 

When Kylo was bare, Hux kicked the pile of his clothes to the side, stripped off his tunic and tossed it over a chair. He snapped the belt against his hand, watched Kylo’s back straighten, adopted a satisfied smirk. 

“It’s something about /leather/, is it, Lord Ren?” He let the belt trail from once hand, walked in a slow half-circle around Kylo and let the leather trail up his chest, over his shoulder, across his back. When he stood behind Kylo, he caught the trailing end, slid it in front of Kylo’s eyes, down his nose, over his lips and chin and then buckled it around his neck. It wasn’t tight, but Kylo could feel its weight, and began to breathe heavily, his cock beginning to rise from the feel of the leather, which had smelled of that same oil from Hux’s gloves, sitting against his throat. 

“Go on, speak,” Hux encouraged. “I want you to.”

“Yes,” Kylo admitted. “I would like to see you strip off everything but your boots and gloves.”

“Do you want me to fuck you, Lord Ren? In just that?”

“/Yes,/” Kylo groaned, tipping his head back, seeking another touch from those perfect gloves, aching for that material pleasure.

“You’ll have to prepare yourself, then. I won’t ruin my gloves by shoving my fingers inside you.”

“Yes,” Kylo repeated, his voice rougher, his cock fully hard. 

“Well, follow me, then.” 

He led the way into his bedroom, and Kylo trailed after on unsteady feet. 

“Lie there on the bed, why don’t you?” Hux suggested, and once Kylo was there, Hux stood before him, at the foot of the bed, and stared him down as he lifted his undershirt off, as he unbuttoned his trousers, as he pushed his jodhpurs and shorts down and off over his boots. He kicked them away, and Kylo watched it all, watched how unconcerned Hux was with baring himself. “Now,” Hux said, clasping his hands behind his back as was his way. Kylo saw the shift in the muscles of his arms, and knew Hux was squeezing his hands again. “Why don’t you tell me, as I’m sure I said I wouldn’t ask again, what you want from me?” 

Kylo swallowed, felt the click of his adam’s apple against the belt, pulled his eyes up from Hux’s half-hard cock to meet his eyes. Something had shifted. He wasn’t used to this position, wasn’t used to giving Hux the upper hand. He couldn’t explain why he wanted to, just then.

“I want you to touch me. I want you to fuck me on my knees so I feel your boots against my calves. I want to touch you, and I want you to like it.”

Hux’s brows lifted slightly. “You want me to like it?” He climbed onto the bed. “Do you mean to say this isn’t a selfish endeavour to indulge a newly-discovered fetish?” 

“It might be,” Kylo conceded. “Somewhat.” He raked his gaze down Hux’s chest, back up again. “Why don’t you tell me what /you/ want?”

Hux huffed a short laugh. “You don’t think I’m taking you to bed, and being so accommodating as to track my boots all over my clean sheets,” Kylo’s cock twitched at that, “out of the goodness of my heart?” 

“No.”

“Fair cop. Well. I’d like for you to, hm, how shall I say, contest with me a little. I like a bit of fight.”

“I’m surprised, General,” Kylo intoned, tipping his chin so the belt dug in further. “I would have thought you’d want a submissive bedmate.” 

“Quite the contrary,” Hux murmured, crawling closer. “Power is so much more rewarding when one has to fight for it.”

“You know what I’m capable of, Hux. It is not a fight you would win.” He only barely restrained himself from lifting Hux off the bed, just to demonstrate. 

“But I know you want it, Lord Ren. I know you wouldn’t truly fight me off, because then neither of us would get what we want.” 

Kylo moved as fast as could be expected, hard as he was, caught Hux’s wrists. He brought one hand up to his face, mumbled, “I wasn’t done with this,” and sucked Hux’s middle and ring fingers into his mouth. 

Almost immediately, he found his eyelids drooping, as he pushed Hux’s fingers across his tongue. The flavour was incredible, earthy and sharp, and Hux’s fingers were warm and vital beneath it. Over and over, he ran his tongue along the stitches, feeling them out, letting them slide against his lip. It was tactile, and addictive and he wanted to shove Hux’s fingers too deep, force himself to gag on them. He sucked greedily, moaning around the digits, until with a quick motion Hux freed his other hand and grabbed the belt from the back with it. He tugged sharply, choking Kylo and forcing him to pull away, dropping Hux’s fingers from his mouth. 

Kylo stared up at Hux, licked his lips to chase the taste, chuckled when Hux lightly slapped Kylo’s cheek with his spit-wet hand. 

“You can do better than that,” Kylo teased, lifting his chin. Hux gave him a look before drawing his hand back and smacking Kylo solidly across the face. In the wake of the pain, Kylo gasped, and rolled his hips, seeking friction and only meeting air. The second strike, a backhand across his other cheek, made him choke out a groan and wrap arms around Hux’s middle to tug him down. He rolled onto his back on the mattress, pulled Hux, protesting, on top of him, ground his cock up against Hux’s. Hux shoved one gloved hand into Kylo’s hair, wrenched his head back, scraped his teeth under Kylo’s jaw. 

“Are you going to bite me, General?” Kylo rasped, hands sliding down to grip Hux’s hips, angle him so he could buck up better, slide against Hux’s hard cock, make him groan into Kylo’s ear. 

Hux did. He pushed his face between the belt and the curve of Kylo’s jaw, sucked flesh into his mouth, bit him. Kylo’s fingers tightened, digging into Hux’s ass. Hux worried the spot with his teeth, bringing up a bruise, one hand still fisted in Kylo’s hair, the other gripping Kylo’s bicep. Kylo’s cheeks still stung. 

He imagined what they must look like: Kylo on his back, hard and aching, his cheeks stained red from being slapped hard and fast, a bruise blooming under his jaw, and Hux, naked but for his boots and gloves, pinned on top of him, his hips moving roughly, his weight crushing their cocks together so tight it hurt. He tilted his head, fought the hand in his hair, nudged Hux with his nose until he could capture his mouth.

Hux let him, fell into the kiss with a deep, satisfied sound Kylo felt against his lips, licked into him, guided him with the fist in his hair. Then there were teeth, against his lips, tugging, and Kylo answered Hux’s moan. He shoved their hips together harder, and Hux barked a broken curse. He struggled back, fighting Kylo’s hold to kneel over him. He bent to a side console, dropped a bottle on Kylo’s chest.

“Get to it,” he commanded, and Kylo inspected the bottle. Lubricant. He shook some out onto his fingers, spread his legs. 

“Are you just going to sit there and watch?” 

“I don’t know. How well can you multitask?” His gloved hand had strayed to the top of his thigh, and his fingertips were just brushing his balls, and it drove Kylo to distraction. He didn’t answer verbally, only began rubbing one finger around his hole, while wrapping the other hand around his cock. “I wonder how you’d like to lick my boots,” Hux went on, casually. “Or, would you prefer I step on you?”

“Fuck!” Kylo gasped, one finger slipping inside himself. He fucked himself roughly with it, impatient to get Hux inside. Hux batted Kylo’s hand away from his cock, replaced it with his own. “/Fuck, Hux! General! Kriff!/” The leather pulled against his skin, and just the sight of it had him panting, shoving another finger inside of himself. 

“I was thinking,” Hux purred, “if you were on your knees, thrusting your fingers in behind yourself, you could easily bend forward and lick my boots. Is that not so?” 

Kylo had to pull out his fingers with a groan, as he got into the position Hux had described, but as soon as Hux was at the foot of the bed, one knee bent under him and the other upright to plant the sole of the boot flat on the sheets, Kylo was shoving three fingers inside himself as he bent forward, braced on his other arm, and pressed his face into the gleaming toe cap.

He didn’t know what this would do to the mirror polish, but he put that out of his mind as he let his tongue drag along the glossy leather. It didn’t have as strong flavour as the gloves, but the very thought of it, of fucking his own ass with three fingers while he bowed before hux to lick his boots, made his cock leak into the bed linens. 

“That’s good,” Hux murmured, and when Kylo looked at him, it looked like he meant it. “Please, Lord Ren, do continue.” Kylo bent to it again, lapped over the arch, up the smooth line of Hux’s shin to the stitching at the top, back down again, kissing along his calf. He watched Hux’s hand, stark in the black glove against Hux’s pale skin, trail down, tease up his own cock. Kylo moaned against the leather. “Do you like it?” Hux asked. “Licking my boots?”

“Yes,” Kylo answered, his voice barely above a growl. He nuzzled into Hux’s instep. 

“Good,” Hux said again. He lifted his foot, tucked it under Kylo’s chin. “You’d like it if I stepped on your throat, wouldn’t you? Ground my boot under your balls?”

“Yes,” Kylo repeated, his voice strangled by Hux’s boot against his windpipe. 

“Mm,” Hux answered. 

“I’m ready for you, General. Look how loose and wet I am,” Kylo groaned, spreading his fingers again. 

“Fuck, Kylo.”

Kylo nearly choked. Hux had never called him that name, and he drew out his fingers, crawled forward the few inches it took to press his mouth to Hux’s cock. 

“Ah, Yes!” Hux’s fingers buried themselves in Kylo’s hair again, held him as he kissed up and down the shaft. “Turn over. I need to be inside you.”

Hurrying to comply, Kylo faced the headboard, got on his knees, pressed his face into the pillows. 

“Look at you,” Hux murmured. He reached under Kylo, between his legs, to stroke a gloved hand down his cock again, careful of the precome leaking out of him. “I don’t know what’s possessed you to suddenly prostrate yourself for a taste of leather on me, but I can’t say I’m too displeased.” 

Kylo only moaned nonsense into the pillow, shoving his hips back, beckoning Hux to fill him, to settle between his spread knees so that his boots pressed up along Kylo’s calves. 

“Ah, and look at you /here/,” Hux intoned, both hands moving to Kylo’s ass, to spread the cheeks apart and look at his stretched hole, shiny with lube, so ready for him. He brushed his hands up and down the curve of Kylo’s ass, specifically so he could feel the leather, the stitches, the shift of the material against his flesh. Kylo nearly sobbed, the air cold against his hole, feeling so empty. When Hux lifted his hands away Kylo turned his head, peered over his shoulder to complain, but only saw Hux’s hand coming down the split second before it made contact with his upturned ass, pain blooming hot and sharp. 

Kylo gasped, feeling the belt around his throat as he sucked in breaths, as Hux smacked him a few more times. 

“Your skin takes colour so nicely. I wish I could show you how pink you are here,” he drew a finger down Kylo’s burning ass, “And here,” he bent forward, touched his tongue to Kylo’s slick rim, traced around it, pulled back. 

“Fuck, General! I thought you said you needed to be inside me,” Kylo complained.

“I do. Kriff, I do, Ren.” 

“Then /please/,” Kylo finally begged, clawing into the sheets, pushing his hips back far enough to brush up against Hux’s thighs, his cock. 

“Yes,” Hux hissed, finally gripping his cock at the base to nudge in. “/Oh,/” he moaned as he pushed into Kylo’s body, inch by inch. “You really /are/ loose and wet. All for this,” he trailed his hand down Kylo’s side and Kylo bucked back against him, shifted his knees so he could brush his feet against the perfectly tended leather covering Hux’s ankles. “Is it just the leather, or is it me?”

“Ngh,” Kylo grunted, as Hux began to pull out. “Both.”

Hux didn’t answer, just thrust in hard, made Kylo moan brokenly into the pillow. He gripped Kylo’s hips, began to set a pace. 

“Have you always felt this way about boots and, and gloves?” Hux was beginning to lose his usual composure, as he rocked in and out of Kylo, as Kylo panted and groaned beneath him. 

“No.” Kylo gripped the sheets, pressed back against Hux. He wasn’t surprised Hux kept talking through everything. What did surprise him was how much he liked it. “It’s /your/ boots. /Your/ gloves. So, so perfect, and smooth.” Hux sped his thrusts and Kylo thought about it, thought about how easily Hux had suggested this, how he’d gone along with Kylo’s desires. He thought about Hux getting hard for him, Hux shoving fingers into his mouth. “Tasted so good, Hux. I could suck your gloves all day. I wish I could watch you stroke off, watch you come across your gloves. If I sucked the come off quickly enough, maybe it wouldn’t stain. I wager that would taste good, too… your come on the leather. You’ve barely let me taste your skin…” 

“Ah!” Hux shouted, bending over Kylo’s back, humming hard against him. “Touch yourself for me, Kylo.”

Hearing his name again from Hux’s lips, Kylo shoved a hand under himself to tug rapidly at his cock.

“Yes, yes!” Hux went on. “Tell me what you’re thinking of, please.”

Kylo huffed, slicking his thumb with precome, rubbing it around the head. “I’m thinking of you, obviously, what we must look like, now, you, with your gloves and boots on. It must look perverse. It must, ah, Hux! I won’t last. More. Harder!”

Hux reached forward, gripped the belt from the back again, tugged as he fucked into Kylo, growling with each push in. Kylo gagged, squeezed his cock, came howling across the sheets. 

“Hux!” he choked out, though the belt made it hard to talk, made him come hard enough his vision grew spotty. 

“Ah, Kylo, so tight!” Hux gasped, letting the belt go only to grip Kylo’s hips for his last few thrusts before he went over the edge, emptying into Kylo, a low groan tearing its way up from his throat. 

Kylo all but collapsed when he was finished, and Hux went down with him. They peeled themselves apart, and Hux, finally, stripped off his gloves and set them on the nightstand, unzipped his boots and set them beside the bed. Kylo reached out, picked up one of the gloves, brought it to his face. He inhaled deeply, and Hux let him, stretching out in the cool sheets. Kylo was lying in the wet spot, but he’d let Hux’s hospitality droid deal with that later. For now he took deep draughts off Hux’s glove, resisting the urge to suck the material into his mouth. It wasn’t as good without Hux’s hand in it.

Then, he felt Hux’s bare hand on his, and he looked up into Hux’s amused face. He squeezed Kylo’s hand, that same short tensing of fingers Kylo had seen before his speech, before they’d begun all of this. He still didn’t know what it meant, but he brought Hux’s pale, bare hand, soft with sweat, to his mouth, kissed his knuckles. It was just as good without the glove.


End file.
